The men exchanged glances. Martha took the floor. “Michelle wanted you to take the crown of Radenor.”
I looked at Henry, at Martha, at Rick. “Uncle...why would I need the crown? Is our life here that bad?”
They exchanged glances once again. Rick asked me, “Alex, have I ever lied to you?”
I shook my head. I can even feel when a person is about to tell lies.
“Right. I could tell you a lot, and you’d believe me.”
You wish...
“No irony, please. You’re still young, and I’m good at wordplay. There are ways to tell the truth and make it worse than any lie.”
He was probably right. Rick had taught me that as well—he had even complained that he had lost his touch, without anyone to practice it on.
“Which is why I have a proposal.”
I held my tongue, waiting for him to continue, and he did.
“We’ve got an order for a big silver shipment. I want you to escort it with Henry. You will see the world, learn a few things, take a look at Radenor. And if you think that everything is all right in our country, I won’t say a word—we’ll leave for Miellen or anywhere else, let Rudolph and Abigail rule in peace. Agreed?”
I nodded. Why not? A promise didn’t mean a marriage, as they say. At that time, I didn’t know what I had agreed to.
Rick was right. After what I had seen in Radenor, I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving my uncle in charge of the poor country. My only surprise after that journey was how people could tolerate that. What could make them rise up and stop this treatment? But that’s a story for later...
***
Did I want the crown?
Yeah, right. A crown, a crow, and a crocodile—I had seen a picture of that in a book. Think big! I want it all! Funny.
I was brought up to know that the crown meant responsibility, and it didn’t give you crap, it only took things away. But Rudolph and Abigail, they weren’t king and queen, not really. Just children who had finally gotten their hands on new toys and played with them while stuffing their mouths with cake. And like most children, they were stupid, cruel, and clueless. But was that a reason enough to overthrow them? There had been worse rulers.
And really, how would I do that? Imagine a half-demon in his true form appearing in front of the palace, scratching the back of his head with his tail, and yelling, “Hey, King, come out and fight me! Oh, and you’d better take your relatives with you!” And Rudolph would run out of the gates, his family in tow, trying to ram me with Abigail’s head, followed by Andre wielding Ruthina in the same way. I would cast hexes on all of them, while we are at it, and sit on the empty throne. People would applaud me, “Hurrah to the demons!”…half-demons, excuse me, and the servitors and thralls of the Bright Saint would look upon all that and weep tears of emotion. What if I redeemed myself and became a kind ruler? Why, I could!
Don’t believe that? I don’t, either. Most likely, they would simply overwhelm me with numbers, and who’d care if I cast a curse or anything on Rudolph and his family? My power wasn’t unlimited, while the crowd was. Everybody feared and hated half-demons, I was no exception, royal blood or not. They wouldn’t take notice of my status before killing me for good.
And who’d take the throne? That wouldn’t be my concern. Somebody would turn up—like a latrine, the throne was bound to attract flies. I really didn’t want to get involved in all that—and I wouldn’t have. If only Rick hadn’t sent me to escort a caravan transporting ore. The things I saw over those days...
I still feel nauseous when I remember that time. I’ve watched lots of horrible stuff happen in my life, but the first time was like losing your virginity—you never forget it. Roads ridden with potholes, hovels with sieves for roofs, people wearing rags that Torrin’s residents would be ashamed to put on a scarecrow. Maybe they could use them to wash the floor, but those clothes had more holes than fabric. The worst thing, however, was the children. Gaunt-looking, with hollow cheeks, sticklike arms, scrawny, emaciated, with the eyes of old men devoid of all hope. They didn’t expect anything good from this life, and neither did their parents.
Along the roads, I saw dying men, people hung for committing terrible crimes such as stealing a few coppers or a piece of bread, cripples...and I got scared. I compared the thralls, those fat, well-groomed slobs, and their flock, who were collapsing from hunger, and I couldn’t understand. Were they touched in the head? How could that happen? How could they drive people to such a sorry state? If my child was dying of hunger because of the king, I would never sit and watch.
I’ll never forget the woman I couldn’t save. We were passing through Raitor, a small town, when we heard screams. My companions had tried to stop me, but I steered my horse toward their source. It turned out to be a woman who was being whipped on a scaffold in front of an audience. They did it slowly, with flair. As for the people... No, there were no people. It was a crowd, the same thin and hungry filth, and they were watching, eating, spitting, making bets on how fast the executioner would beat the poor woman to death, how soon she would faint...
I wanted to kill them. In a minute, my power would have been released, raising all corpses in the area—and not your nice controllable zombies, no! They would be ghasts, hungry and thirsty for blood, like those I saw here. I would have done it; I swear. But Henry’s hand squeezed my shoulder, making me wince in pain.
“Look, Alex,” he whispered angrily, his breath hot on my skin. “Look!”
“Scum!” I hissed. “Beasts...”
“No. They are people, but Rudolph turned them into beasts.”
“Yeah, right, as if they were virtuous before...”
I felt something hot and wet on my cheeks. The crowd was splattered with blood. I jolted forward, but Henry wouldn’t let me go.
“People become animals if they get lowered to such levels. They don’t have any other purpose—all they can do is make children, feed them, have some fun...and that’s the only way they can. Executions are cheap, and blood intoxicates...”
“Let me go!”
“Watch, Alex. That’s your uncle’s doing.”
“And before him—”
“Your grandfather would never allow that. During his rule, there were no scaffolds on the squares.”
I clenched my teeth.
“Henry, maybe we could—”
“They’ll tear us to shreds. I’d love to help, but...”
I got it. The crowd would never let go of a victim. And we wouldn’t be able to rescue her; I knew that for a fact. If we were faster, then maybe, but when we arrived, the execution had already been underway. Right then, death would be preferable for her than a lifetime of torment.
Only a skilled mage healer could help her now, and we had none. I was of no use. I couldn’t interfere. I could only watch her suffer.
“What has she done?”
Henry yelled to the crowd.
“They’re executing a witch, your grace,” somebody answered.
A witch? Mother? Martha? Would they do the same to them?
The rage inside me exploded in a fiery stream of power. It lashed outside, reaching the woman on the scaffolding, and in one strike, I tore the bond tethering her soul to this life, and it soared into heaven, gifting me with a small, grateful smile.
My blood boiled. Each and every nerve in my body was burning, and scorching black hate coiled inside of me as if it were a snake. I felt pain, fear, nausea... I sank down in the saddle.
I hate it!
Hate found a place inside my heart. Something like that should never be done to people. Never.
During a rest stop, Henry spent a while trying to bring me around, feeding me spiced wine, calming me down, comforting me, trying to explain we couldn’t have done anything for the poor girl. It didn’t help much.
That was my first time killing someone innocent who wasn’t a danger to me. I still feel disgust whenever I remember it. The first innocent life I took had been on my uncle’s account.
It’s not like I wanted to kill her, did I? She wasn’t anyone to me.
When I got back, Martha had me spend a week drinking herbal elixirs. She walked me to the cemetery, talked to me, sang me lullabies as if I were a child. I was afraid. Radenor...I didn’t really want to rule the country, true. But leaving it like that? Never.
Maybe it was Michelle’s blood that awoke in me—the princess who loved her country more than her life, my mad mother...Was I mad as well? I had no idea. I didn’t want to know.
I felt as if I was scorched by fire. It hurt. It hurt me when I saw that, fathomed that, thought about that...They were people! I wasn’t human, but I couldn’t sit and watch how innocents died. I was hurt, and I was scared.
***
In a week, after I had enough time to process everything, we gathered the family council, Rick, Henry, Martha and I. We didn’t invite anyone else. Cassandra and Mirabelle didn’t really want to be there, anyway. What could they do? Take pity on me? Please.
Neither Rick nor Henry had ever lied to me. Sometimes, they hadn’t told the whole truth, until I was old enough to hear it, anyway. But I had never heard them straight-up lie to me.
And now we had to decide on what we were going to do. I couldn’t leave the kingdom in Rudolph’s hands. A king? Pfft! A crowned oaf sitting on the throne! The Saint only knows what part of his body he uses to think. I know I didn’t want to know.
Rick was the first to speak up. “Have you seen enough?”
I nodded. Enough? I was stuffed to the brink! For that chaos in his kingdom, uncle should be more than just killed!
“So, what will you do?”
That made me pause. Actually, I could simply head to the capital, use my gift to murder my uncle, my aunt, and all of their minions—and rule. Could I, though?
After hearing me out, Henry snorted. “Alex, do you have any idea how much people LOVE necromancers?”
“And with what and in which place,” I snapped.
“Then don’t do anything foolish.”
I nodded once again.
A half-demon, a necromancer... Either of these words was enough for me to get sent to the cleansing fire. I did realize very well what my parents were trying to tell me. Yeah, parents. I didn’t give a crap we weren’t related by blood.
The kingdom had been weakened by Rudolph, the army was in disarray, the treasury—cleaned out almost completely, and the peasants barely cared about any kings. The neighboring states, in the meantime, were strong and hungry. And if I did the things that my half-demon nature was trying to force me to do, namely kill everyone and take the throne for myself, then soon enough, I would end up a dead half-demon.
The church, the neighbors—everybody would join their efforts and send armies after me. No matter how powerful I was, I was alone. I couldn’t just go and summon an army of Darkness, could I?
I needed my country alive, not ravaged by Darkness. Not to mention, I didn’t really want to become a demon. Maybe I couldn’t live my life as a human, but I wanted to die as one. Was I scared? Not really. Necromancers know what awaits them behind the veil—it’s nothing to be afraid of. But outlasting everyone you love and care about, your children, the woman you love—if there is one—and seeing the terror in people’s eyes... No, I don’t wish that for myself. And if I kill my kin... I remembered Argadon’s words and knew I would definitely take pleasure in killing my uncle.
And that would be my first step on the path to becoming a true demon. After you took your first step, the second would be easier, Andre. And the third one, Abigail, then Ruthina.
They might be the scum of the earth, and I wished them to die a slow and painful death, but I wouldn’t soil my hands with their blood. Others would turn up.
I had a different task. Which one? I didn’t know yet. A rebellion, a war...or not, it would be hard to save Radenor from war afterward. We didn’t have any strength or resources left for that! None at all! Enough for a country, but not for a kingdom. And I stared at my parents, waiting for them.
“What are your ideas?”
Henry and Rick had some. They wanted me to gain the throne slowly, step by step. I was to go to the capital and introduce myself to the court. Then I had to defend myself from assassins; serve in the army—as a prince. I would get my own squad, but learning how to command it would be a challenge. I’d have to be generous and pay them, not allow them to steal, win all scuffles and battles, which were sure to happen, and then gradually sway the army to my side—and perform a coup. Not even by myself, no, everything would be done for me by others, and I would simply take the crown I was offered. Never mind that Rudolph wasn’t immortal, his son was stupid enough to snap his neck with my help, his daughter was already married, and his wife...
A convent was just the place for her! It was about time, too! One Dress Queen? Let her have that one dress—a nun’s habit!
I thought for a while and accepted their plan. Why wouldn’t I? Yeah, I’d have to wait for a while for the crown, but there was no sin worse than killing your kin. I was a half-demon, it wouldn’t be as bad for me, but I’d rather avoid that. I had to make Rudolph and Andre dig their own graves. Can I? That’s a funny question. I am a half-demon, after all.
So, that was settled. A journey to the court awaited me. I needed to find allies there. How exactly, you ask? By any means possible. I knew that I would manage—half-demons were inherently charismatic and persuasive. We could convince anyone. Or do you doubt me? I could prove that to you in person.
Oh, you’d rather not? All right then. You may live.
***
After we had received the latest letter from my uncle, Rick finally answered in the affirmative. The boy got better and is anticipating a visit to the court to pay his respects. Could you, maybe, forbid him? His bones are still so fragile and his health so weak... He might not survive the journey.
The proof of my uncle’s love arrived in a month.
Let the boy come; we’ll provide a healer. He’ll get here by himself, won’t he? And if not... We’ll mourn him, even twice—a tear from each eye. An escort? Provide it yourself! And a carriage, and everything!
Uncle didn’t even consider where we would get this in our backwoods Torrin. Why would he? That was dangerous; it might make him think. Ugh!
Martha bathed me in her tears and swore that if a hair fell from my head, Rudolph was a dead man. I believed her and vowed not to cut my hair, just in case. Henry checked my fighting abilities one last time, Rene tested my necromantic powers and control skills, and Rick forced me to repeat everything I knew about the political situation.
I was ready to appear before the court. What about the court? They had sixteen years to prepare. Those who hadn’t would get eaten—by me. That was a metaphor, obviously. I wasn’t stupid enough to swallow some trash. I didn’t want to get poisoned. Uncle’s court was such a viper’s nest that an actual snake would get poisoned in a minute.
I was a half-demon, and I wanted to survive for longer.
***
Radenor was saturated with grime. Poverty, hunger, hate, they hung in the air like a foul mist, unnerving and irritating me. It was the first long trip in my life, and I felt uncertain. I had a companion in Henry, but we would soon part ways, as he was needed back home. I insisted upon that. Henry was responsible for all matters outside Torrin, and Rick wouldn’t be able to handle it without him for long. And I... I would.
There was one more fact in my favor—I was hard to kill. I was immune to most poisons, I could use magic, and Henry was an ordinary human, who, whatever he said, had gotten out of shape during his stay in Torrin. He wasn’t that dashing fellow from seventeen years ago anymore.
We argued for a while but finally got on the same page. Seeing as how it was improper for a prince to show up at court without servants—princes were helpless and unable to take care of themselves, after all—Tom was to go with me as my servant, as well as a bodyguard if I needed one. Should the need arise, he’d have my back.
I didn’t mind. We had all trained together, studied together, and got along well enough. What else could I need? And then, Tom had promised his sisters to find a couple of suitors for them at court; Marie and Miranda were already of age, but we couldn’t invite complete strangers to a necromancer’s abode, could we? We didn’t even have a thrall—not a single one in all of Torrin! If anybody needed anything, they had to visit the neighboring barony; the local ruler was quite religious. He wasn’t blessed with a brain, so he took to obeying others’ commands.
Rick had thought about getting someone for Torrin, as well, but eventually decided against it. Thralls and servants were insidious. They could have gone to live in the castle, ask us for money, and then if they saw what they should not... Nope, it was better to play it safe. Let them sit in their parishes.
Tom was pleased to go, unlike me. I could keep myself safe, but what would I say to Rick if something happened to his son?
***
Tommy was a great guy. He was almost seven feet tall, his dirty blond hair always disheveled, his brown eyes ever cheerful, his smile wide. And he was always ready to come to anybody’s aid. We fought and made peace, trained and ran away to the mountains... So many adventures, so much fun, so much laughter.
I’d say Tommy was my closest companion. Would I call him my friend? Not quite. I couldn’t let him inside my soul, as he wasn’t a necromancer—and necromancers did nasty things. Tommy was life, laughter, light. And I...I was twilight; I was night; I was darkness. I was scared he would turn away from me...and what would happen when we visited the vipers’ nest?
Tom allayed my fears. “Alex, do you trust me?”
“Yes.
“And I trust you. You’re like a brother to me. Do you want us to mix our blood?”
I embraced him. He was a true friend. Did I want that? Of course, I did. Blood magic was as ancient as necromancy and just as powerful. If Tom became my blood brother, he could never lie to me, betray me, or stab me in the back. And I... I was stronger, and I would become his sovereign. That’s how a blood link worked. How life did.
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